spray, as hardly able to be still, in their fulness of delight. There, from the meadow's bosom, the morning lark is seen to rise, pouring forth a stream of melody, as he mounts, by short quick flights, into the sky. Higher and higher he soars, singing as he goes, in the joy of his little heart, seeming to make still softer and sweeter music the higher he ascends. And now he is no longer visible, but his song is still heard, as if truly it were music from the happy heavens.

And what, now, is the impression made upon our hearts? In these sweet notes and movements of the pretty birds, is there not the expression of innocence and joy? And does not the thought at once occur, Iwho made these innocents? who gave them power to sing so? who taught them these strains? Does not the construction of those fine instruments, their little throats, prove exquisite skill-skill, beyond the art of man? But if the formation of the instrument shews wisdom and power in their Creator, so the life which fills that instrument,—the joyful nature of which gives all the sweetness to their song,-displays, in a still more striking manner, His love and goodness.

The bleating of the sportive lambs, and the affectionate answer of the mother, calling them to her side —these sounds are also heard in the distant fields, and they tell the same tale, bespeaking the wisdom and goodness of the Creator. But here the latter quality, goodness, seems to be more directly and manifestly expressed. The notes of the birds told of their joy, and, from the perception of this, we argued love in the mind of their Creator; for love alone delights to infuse into others a state of joy, and to see them happy. So, moreover, from the beauty of the flowers, and the

bright, life-like look of the bursting blossoms, we could not but draw a somewhat similar idea; for these seemed the nearest to joy that an inanimate thing could express, and they were also the means of giving joy to our minds. But here,—in the tones of affection expressed between the little lamb and its mother, we are one step nearer the fountain-head; here is not merely a manifestation of love in the Maker evinced by the joy of the thing made, but here is love itself, manifest affection,—uttered, indeed, but in an inarticulate bleat, yet expressed as distinctly as in a mother's lullaby.

But look! yonder comes the sturdy ploughman to his labors. He harnesses his horses to the plough, where it stands in the furrow; and now he moves onward, turning up the bosom of the soil to the fresh air, preparing it to receive the seed. Now consider this wonder; for, common as it has become to our sight, it is not the less in itself a wonder. Consider how the millions that people this earth, are nourished. Into the ground thus opened, seed is scattered, and covered over again-buried alive, as it were. But, by and by, it "springs and groweth up, we know not how." A living power, seemingly, moving within the seed, causes it to burst and send a root downward and a shoot upward. The little blade becomes a strong stalk, and, growing taller and taller, crowns itself at length with a head, containing tens and hundreds of seeds precisely similar to the solitary one that was sown in the ground

-so many children, as it were, of this little parent. What a wonderful process and result, (when we stop to consider it) altogether beyond the reach of our knowledge, and understood only by Him who contrived it!

And thus is man supplied with the food which sustains his body, so that his mind may be free to go on and accomplish its great purposes and work out its eternal destinies. Is there not visible, here, the Hand of Infinite Goodness and Power, secretly working to provide for man his daily bread? Has the plant itself any skill? Has the dull earth any benevolent purpose, that such wonderful and useful effects are produced? Are not these plainly but the instruments of a great Mind and Heart-of a good and wise Being, working unseen for our benefit?

But now, if we seek for evidences, more particularly, of the Creator's skill and wisdom, we must descend into a minuter examination of the objects before us. For the love and goodness of the Creator are visible everywhere in works and effects: for love shews itself chiefly in effects, because there its end is accomplished, and in the result the benevolent purpose images itself and becomes visible. But wisdom is to be detected rather by studying the means by which the effects are produced,-by examining the structure and composition of things; for wisdom deals chiefly with means, wisdom being the servant of love, and the instrument by which it accomplishes its benevolent ends.

Pluck, then, this flower before you. Examine its form and appearance. What beautiful colours! what delicate tints! what fine shading of one into another! How gracefully and with what curved "lines of beauty," its petals open themselves to the morning sun! Would you not think they had been formed and painted by angels' hands? Truly, "Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." Now draw forth your microscope and examine its structure. Trace the deli

cate fibres; observe the regular formation of the vessels; note the little mouths at the root by which the plant sucks nutriment from its mother earth. Is not this beautiful? Is there not wondrous skill and wisdom here exhibited-and combined, too, with a soft and loving spirit? For observe, this is no hard, dry machine, made merely for dusty use. It is for ornament there is plainly a design to give pleasure, here. Else, why be at the pains of so much grace and decoration? If it were placed here only for cattle's food, or even if intended but for fragrance and to perfume the air, why adorn it so elaborately, and paint it with such exquisite colours? It is here set manifestly by a benevolent Being, to delight our eyes with its beauty, as well as our sense of smell by its perfume. In this little object we behold a work both of wisdom and love.

And look over the field: it is covered with them: they are almost infinite in number and variety, giving an idea of the infinity of Him who made them. But if you wish a still more striking image of infinity, pluck a handful of these blades of grass, and examine them. See the pretty stripes with which they are adorned, some wide, some narrow, and of different shades. Now place these blades of grass side by side, and note carefully the arrangement of the stripes. You observe that in no two blades is that arrangement the same; there is perpetual variety; and you may examine the whole field before you, spending months in the labour, and, among the millions here, you will find no two blades alike. Is there not here a picture of infinity?

Throw now again a glance over the general landscape, before we retire. Observe all these objects,-the

grasses, the flowers, the trees covered with blossoms giving promise of the future fruit, the singing-birds, the cattle, the green hill-sides; and then, as you inhale the fragrant air, and look up into the soft blue sky, and at the golden eastern sun that lights the whole,-what do you feel?what do you say? Must it not be a most kind and bountiful and benevolent Being, who has provided all these things to serve and delight us? and as wise and powerful as He is bountiful, to effect it so admirably, so skilfully, so charmingly? Shall we not return, then, from our morning walk, with a more distinct and rational appreciation of the wisdom and goodness of the Creator?

And as we walk homeward, we shall have an opportunity of observing and reflecting upon the most wonderful object, perhaps, of all that stood upon that ground—namely, ourselves, our own wondrous frame and structure.

As you step on, mark how many things co-operate in the simple movement of walking! Note the alternate bending and straightening of the joints, and of so many joints, in every step you take. And what in fact is a joint in the human framework? Take a book of anatomy, and learn its wonderful formation, and the admirable means provided for its lubrication and consequent ease of movement. Then consider the variety of muscles that are called into action at every slightest motion. You cannot turn round to look at a charming prospect, or stoop to pluck a pretty flower, without bringing into play a hundred different muscles. Then consider the delicate system of nerves, by and through which, the spirit communicates its will to the strong muscles, and bids them act; by which, too, it receives and returns the friendly grasp